by Ali Parker
I stared slack-jawed at Walker. Was he being serious?
Wes looked back and forth between me and his best friend. “Do you need a bit of time to think it over, Briar?”
I licked my lips and nodded. “Yes, please. I, um, I’m sorry, Walker. I didn’t expect that. Are you sure I’m the right person you’d want to offer an opportunity like that to? I don’t know anything about art and the nicest thing I’ve ever sold was a coffee mug.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t sure,” Walker said. “You have the right personality for it. You’re welcoming, charming, friendly, and clever. My galleries aren’t serious or severe places. I want people to enjoy themselves while they’re there, and I think you can bring that element to the New York location. It’s not a bad commute, either. Maybe twenty-five minutes or so?”
I rubbed my hands down my thighs as my palms grew clammy with nerves. “I don’t know.”
Wes leaned forward. “Is the only reason you’re uncertain because you feel like this offer wouldn’t happen if you weren’t with me?”
I looked up at Wes from beneath my brows and nodded. “Maybe?”
“Fuck Wes,” Walker said.
“Hey now,” Wes said.
Walker waved him away dismissively. “Your relationship with him has nothing to do with it. How about we do a trial run? We start with one month and see if you like it. If it’s not a good fit, you can pass on the job, no hard feelings. If you like it, we can negotiate terms.”
“Terms?” I asked.
Walker nodded. “Benefits, salary, vacation, you know, that sort of thing.”
“That sort of thing,” I whispered.
Was this actually happening? Had yet another opportunity just fallen into my lap? Was it really in my best interest to work for Wes’s best friend? What was more, was it a genuine offer, or was Walker just trying to be nice? I didn’t want him to take a chance on me and hire me if there were other people out there who would be a better fit for his business.
“You think about it,” Walker said. “There’s no rush on getting back to me. I just figure if you can break Wes out of his shell, you can do anything.”
“It’s your turn next,” Wes said.
“For what?” Walker asked innocently.
“A woman. Someone to get you under control.”
Walker smirked. “Control? Please. One woman couldn’t possibly control all of this.”
I snorted into my wine glass.
Walker arched an eyebrow. “Something to say?”
“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “Nothing at all.”
Wes rolled his eyes. “For the record, Briar, Walker makes an obscene living painting pictures off of real life nude models. In layman’s terms, he spends a good majority of his time in private with beautiful naked women.”
“Sounds like every bachelor’s dream,” I said.
Walker shook his head. “Those women want nothing to do with me romantically. I’m a means to an end for them. They want their likeness captured on canvas and I can provide that. Aside from that? I’m just the guy with shitty punchlines and paint stains on his shirt.”
I doubted that was true. Walker was a good-looking guy. Charming, too, in a roguish, devil-may-care sort of way.
“I’ll take the job,” I said suddenly.
Walker grinned like a boy who’d just been paired up with the hottest girl in school in a round of spin the bottle. “You will?”
I nodded. “What the hell, right? I need a job. You need a receptionist. Why not?”
“Why not?” Walker echoed. “You hear that, Wes? I get to hang out with your woman on a daily basis. Imagine the stories she and I can share about you.”
Wes stood up. “I need another beer.”
Walker leaned toward me on the other side of the table. “So besides the socks, what else does he do that annoys the shit out of you?”
Wes groaned behind me in the kitchen. “On second thought, I think it’s time to break out the hard liquor.”
Walker and I grinned at each other.
“Would you like a notepad to start a list?” I offered. “Or would you like to commit them to memory?”
“Oh yes.” Walker nodded. “You and I are going to get along just fine.”
I waited in bed as Wes unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged out of it.
“Tonight was fun,” I said. “I like Walker. He’s funny.”
“He’s a git.”
I laughed. “You’re just saying that because we teamed up on you. I’m sorry, babe. Did we hurt your feelings?”
Wes looked at me over his shoulder. “My feelings? Oh no, not at all. But I think you might have crossed a line.”
I paled. Was he being serious?
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to. What did I say?”
“I think,” he said slowly, turning to face me as he took off his pants, “that you need to be punished.”
A nervous giggle escaped me. “Punished?”
Wes nodded. His dark eyes roamed over me as I hid under the covers. “You’ve been a bad girl. Come here.”
“Where?” I asked, playing with fire.
Wes pointed at the end of the bed. “Here.”
I climbed out from beneath the covers and crawled on my hands and knees to the end of the bed. Wes, now completely naked, gathered my hair up into one fist and held it at the nape of my neck. His cock grew hard inches from my face, and without speaking a word, he pushed me forward. My lips parted and I took him in my mouth. My body tensed with need as Wes took control and pressed himself deep in my throat.
I gripped his thighs as he started slowly fucking my mouth. White hot need gathered between my thighs as I anticipated how else he was going to punish me. Whatever it was, I wanted it. I craved it.
I worshiped his cock with my mouth until he pulled me off, turned me around, and forced me face first on the bed with my ass in the air. He spanked me, first gently and then not so gently, until I whimpered and gripped the sheets beneath me. I wiggled my hips in invitation for him to touch my dripping-wet pussy.
Wes always turned me on. Just looking at him sometimes made my insides scream with lust. Tonight hadn’t been any different. All the playful banter followed by this impromptu show of dominance had quite simply done me in.
I was his plaything to use as he pleased.
And I hoped he aimed to use me well.
Wes squeezed the backs of my thighs and worked his way up to my ass cheeks. He gripped them, spread them apart, and ran his cock through my wetness. I whimpered, the sound half smothered by the blankets my face was buried in, and pushed back against him.
“Stay right where you are,” Wes grated. The strain in his voice turned me on even more. He wanted me as badly as I wanted him and he was exercising admirable self-control.
I yearned for it to break.
Wes pressed the tip of his cock inside me. My pussy tightened. He groaned.
Yes.
He gave me more, only an inch, and his teasing nearly pushed me over the edge. I ached for more—for all of him.
“Please,” I begged.
“Please what, baby?”
“Fuck me.”
Wes leaned over me, grabbed my elbows, and hauled me upright so my back was flush against his chest. He wrapped an arm around my lower stomach to press two fingers to my clit. He grabbed my chin with his other hand and turned my face to the side so he could kiss and pinch my neck with his teeth. I trembled in his grip and contemplated begging him for mercy.
“I was thinking about being inside you all night long,” Wes said, his breath hot against my throat. “I can’t get enough of you. I want to fuck you until your release drips down your thighs. I want to hear you scream.” He released my chin and took a fistful of my hair. “I want you to forget your own damn name.”
I almost came right then and there.
He tightened his grip in my hair.
I closed my eyes. “So make me scream.”
Wes threw me down on the bed. At the same time, he drove deep inside me. My cry of surprise was cut short when he took my hips and pulled me against him, holding me in place while he fucked me mercilessly. I could hear how wet I was and practically feel him growing inside me. He slapped my ass and gave me everything he had until the pressure growing inside me became too much and I burst open.
I screamed his name into the bed sheets. Wes let out a primal growl behind me as I came hard. My thighs shook and quivered as my come leaked out of me, and my climax had Wes coming undone. He pulled out, shot warm lashes of come up my back, and stepped back to gently massage my pussy.
I was so sensitive that I jerked and pulled away.
“I’m not done with you yet,” Wes said hoarsely. “We have all night.”
Dazed and delirious, I smiled into the bed sheets. “I thought you wanted to write tonight?”
“The book can wait. It’s not going anywhere.”
“Neither am I,” I whispered.
“Damn straight.”
Epilogue
Wes
One Month Later
I twirled my pen around my fingers and stared at the page of my open notebook. Beside me, nestled between my armchair and the fireplace, stood the first live Christmas tree I’d ever owned. It smelled like pine and sap, and it twinkled magically, giving off just enough light for me to write by.
All around the base of the tree was a wasteland of gifts done up in red, green, and gold wrapping paper that Briar had picked out at the beginning of the season. The sparkling bows meticulously tied around each present glittered under the lights of the tree and I’d gotten distracted from my writing several times over just watching the beauty of it all.
When I’d lived alone, I hadn’t bothered to dress the whole house up for the holidays. But now that Briar was around, all that had changed.
She wanted to go big this year.
She’d started working for Walker at the beginning of the month and she was making more money working for him than she ever had in her entire life. Feeling more in the spirit than ever, she claimed, she’d insisted we go all out with the real tree and hosting our own dinner. Her parents were flying in tomorrow for Christmas Eve dinner. Walker would be joining as well, as would Briar’s old roommate Sonia, whose family didn’t celebrate Christmas. It was a random mishmash of people to be sure, but Briar and I were looking forward to hosting our first ever Christmas dinner.
Excited was an understatement where Briar was concerned.
She was downright over the moon about it.
We’d spent the entire week prepping for dinner. We made sure we had all the fixings, just like we had for Thanksgiving dinner, and we’d decorated the house like it was the North Pole. Outside, we’d strung up Christmas lights. I balanced precariously on the ladder while Briar stood down below on guard. We’d purchased two white, light-up deer for the small front yard of the townhouse as well as candy canes to put along the fence.
Inside, every single surface had something festive on it. Mistletoe hung from the doorway leading from the front entrance to the kitchen. Potpourri simmered on the stove almost every day all day and made the house smell like cinnamon and mulled spices. Christmas music played around the clock and candles flickered and danced in nearly every corner. The mantle boasted an elegant display of pine garland, as did the stair railings and bannisters. At night, we hardly turned the house lights on. Instead, we enjoyed the cozy ambiance of the Christmas lights and candles.
Under the tree, in a tiny box wrapped in gold paper, was the first piece of jewelry I’d ever bought for Briar. Our first Christmas was a big deal and I wanted the gift to be just right. I’d spent weeks searching for the perfect piece until I spied it in a shop window when I was Christmas shopping with Walker. It had stopped me in my tracks and I went inside to investigate.
The piece, a beautiful necklace on a silver chain, was a diamond pendant set upon a halo of other smaller diamonds. It caught the light like nothing I’d ever seen before and dazzled my credit card right out of my wallet into the hand of the salesperson, who rang me up and somehow managed to sell me on the matching pair of earrings, which were in a separate box tucked in amongst the tree branches.
I couldn’t wait to see Briar’s face when she opened them.
Back in the jewelry store, Walker had just suggested I buy her an engagement ring and do a Christmas proposal. I knew a proposal was likely on the horizon but I didn’t want to rush things. There were still milestones in our relationship and I wanted to enjoy each and every one of them. I wanted more time as boyfriend and girlfriend, regardless of how silly it sounded, before we got engaged.
After all, we’d only been together for around two months.
It was more than enough time for me to know I was going to marry her one day.
I put my pen down when I heard Briar coming down the stairs. She’d slipped away shortly after dinner to indulge in a bubble bath so she could relax before her parents flew in tomorrow and we went into hosting mode. Just like the last time they stayed with us, the house was ready and the guest room was prepped.
She came around the corner and stopped when she saw me looking at her.
“Damn,” I said.
Briar wore a sexy Santa lingerie set. It was red and trimmed in white fluff, and she’d pulled on a Santa hat and everything.
“I’m a lucky man,” I said.
Briar walked languidly into the living room and stopped in front of my chair to turn in a slow circle. “You like it?”
“I do. I definitely do.”
“I was going to save it for Christmas Eve but I thought it might be weird since my folks would be here.”
“This is better,” I said. “This is much better.”
Maybe I should have bought an engagement ring and proposed on Christmas day.
Briar took my notepad and put it and my pen on the table beside me. She stepped in close and sat on my lap so she could drape one arm around my shoulders and lean into me. Christmas music played in the background and the lights on the tree winked in her eyes.
“I can’t believe this is my life now,” she whispered.
“Likewise,” I said, running a hand absently down her thigh and over her knee. “And to think, we never would have met if you hadn’t made the leap and moved to New York.”
She smiled. “I was looking for the right place to start over but I found Mr. Write instead. See what I did there? Did you catch that?”
“Please don’t use puns. You’re going to give this writer’s brain an ulcer.”
She giggled and shook her head at me. “I mean it. I thought for so many years that the only thing out there for me was New York. I thought my dreams would come true in the form of a new job or a condo that was all mine. I never thought I’d be lucky enough to have a dream this big come true.”
“If you don’t stop talking sweet to me, I’m going to rip those Santa panties right off of you.”
She clicked her tongue. “Careful, you don’t want to get yourself put on the naughty list.”
“Oh, I think I do.”
Briar nodded pointedly at the plush rug in front of the fireplace. “I’ve always wanted to be one of those couples who have sex on a carpet in front of the fireplace. What do you think? I’ll let you unwrap this present early.”
“I’m not going to handle with care.”
She slid off my lap and walked over to the carpet. “I would never expect you to.”
I stood up and untucked my shirt.
Briar’s eyes slid up and down the length of my body and she smiled wistfully.
I paused after I undid my pants. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s something,” I insisted.
She shrugged one shoulder and the lights of the tree caught in her eyes. I realized she was getting emotional.
“What is it?” I asked, going to her and cupping her face in my hands.
She laughed lightly as a tear escaped. I br
ushed it away with my thumb.
“It’s silly,” she said.
“I love silly.”
Briar’s eyes danced back and forth between mine. “I’m just in awe that this is my home. I’m in awe that you’re my man. That this is my life. I still wake up sometimes wondering if I’m going to wake up from the best dream I’ve ever had.”
“Baby,” I whispered, “I’m the one who’s in awe. I haven’t been able to catch my breath since I first laid eyes on you.”
Briar wrapped her arms around my waist. “Merry Christmas, Wes. I love you.”
She stretched to the tips of her toes and kissed me. When we pulled apart, I lowered her to the carpet and braced myself above her. The light of the fire painted her skin in amber light, and for a moment, I was paralyzed by her beauty. I ran a hand through her hair before cupping the back of her neck.
“Merry Christmas, Briar,” I whispered.
She pulled me down to her by the collar of my shirt. “Just kiss me already, Shakespeare.”
The End
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